Hey Girl
by selanfene
Summary: AU.  MaureenxOC high school romance.  Written with interchangeable viewpoints.  M for language, drugs, and sex in later chaps.
1. Chapter 1

**Part One—So Beautiful (Maureen PoV)**

Damn. She was gorgeous—shoulder-length, straight, slightly shaggy auburn hair framed her carefully-shaped, pale-to-translucency face. There were honestly no words for her. Her name? Mona. She looked more like an Alex to me (or maybe Alexa).

Apart from her name, I knew very little about her: She was an upperclassman, probably going off to college after this year, she wasn't very popular, she was an actress, and she was usually attached at the mouth with some guy, often one named Tom.

Not that I cared. After all, she was a girl. I was probably jealous of her looks.

And even if I _were _attracted to girls, she wasn't my type. I wasn't into the theatre scene. I was more on the stoner side of things. Not that I did pot—that's for losers. But I did dabble in E, crack, smack, acid, and occasionally meth and inhalants. I drank, too—Johnnie WB, Tequila, Stoli—anything strong.

But _damn_. Today she was strutting down the hall sans her boy toy, and she looked fine.

I leaned against my locker, watching her walk by, swinging her hips in her low-rise jeans—

Whoa. Rewind. I was _not _checking out her ass. I was just... admiring her pockets, with their lovely... _gold _embroidery...

Oh, God. I was _so _checking out her ass.

**Part Two—Born To Be Bad (Mona's PoV)**

I really didn't know why I never noticed her before.

Okay, I did—she was just a freshman, and she was really not _that _pretty.

Still, that day she caught my eye. She was leaning against her locker, hips thrust slightly forward and thumbs hooked into the waistband of her tight black pants.

Tight black pants? _So _not my type. Hello, I'm an _actress_, not an _emo_.

Anyway, she stood there with her intense, dark eyes fixed on me, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

A good shiver.

And I didn't even know her name. I was pretty sure I'd seen her a few times over Tom's shoulder with Johnson and Cameron. That meant she was probably a "born to be bad" type.

A junkie.

Was she seeing anybody? I didn't know.

Why did I care? She was just some stupid frosh junkie eyeing me in the hall.

Probably a lesbian or something. Ew.

But I'll admit that when I walked past, I gave my hips a little extra swing.

_A/N: Don't own RENT. I __do__ own Mona, partially, although her appearance is based largely on a mix of two people I don't own—a boy I know named Alex (hence why she "looks like an Alex" to Maureen) and a girl from the movie _My Summer of Love _named Mona (hence her name Mona). I own neither _My Summer of Love _nor the character Mona in that movie. Alex is owned by nobody, since he's a real human being._

_Anyway. This is eventually going to be a multi-chapter fic, but I don't have time to write it yet, so I'm just putting up a short, two-part one shot that will eventually be the first chapter of my upcoming fic _Hey Girl_. Enjoy._


	2. Chapter 2

**Part One—Just Say No (Mona's PoV)**

The second day after I noticed the freshman girl, I was still hypersensitive to her. I noticed her while I was making out with Tom, sitting at her usual corner table with the druggies and failures. I refused to admit that chances are she was a druggie and a failure as well. She looked so much better—prettier and more put together—than the rest of them. She was wearing a white leather jacket with a black tube top and white hotpants and white Converse low-tops. Most people would've looked like shit in that outfit—especially with the thick makeup she had caked on—but she just caught my eye and flashed me a small smile and... she _didn't _look like shit.

So I ditched Tom. Told him I had things to take care of... I knew he'd go over to the jocks—they're his backup friends—and never think of me again till I came back. Still, I detoured by the bathroom just to make sure he didn't notice me. When I came in, two girls I remembered from middle school but hadn't seen since were sitting on the sinks and smoking pot. Two more girls were in the handicapped stall, and—by the noises coming from that corner of the room, I didn't want to barge in on them.

After a few minutes, I dropped back into the caff and scanned the crowd. As predicted, Tom was with the jocks. The freshman girl noticed me alone and beckoned me. I did the sensible thing—what any college-bound senior does when faced with a choice between right and wrong:

I went over.

Actually, saying it was a choice between right and wrong is overdramatic. I didn't _know _for a fact that I'd be pulled into anything bad. There was every possibility that I wouldn't be. But I think I wanted to be.

**Part Two—Spiel Mit Mir (Maureen's PoV)**

I wasn't high or drunk the second day. Well, not very, anyway. I'd had a line before school, but it was mostly worn of, I guess. And I know that Mona's awesomeness isn't just a drug-induced psychotic...ness...thing, because I STILL wanted to tap—

NO.

I AM NOT A LESBIAN.

I mean to say, I _still _admired her beauty and, uh... still thought she could have a carrier in... naked modeling.

NO.

I MEAN NORMAL MODELING.

God, what the _hell_?

On the other hand, she was connected at the mouth again when I slipped into the caffeteria fifteen minutes late. Nobody really commented on that type of thing with me anymore, though. They just figured I was off getting high or something. (Actually, I'd been selling pot. I sell it, but I won't do it. See all the other drugs I do, not sell. Pot I sell.) Anyway, I was a bit late and she and that Tom character were engaging in truly disgusting public displays of affection.

(Okay, I realize that tame spit-swapping isn't that gross. It just kind of felt that way to me.)

But hey... once I caught her eye, she ditched her boy toy and came over.

And dude, I was _horny._

Um, not that I want to fuck her.

Because I don't.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part One—Legal Drug (Mona PoV)**

I'd been around drugs before, of course. I mean, who hasn't? And I live on a pretty shady side of town. My dad died Oding on heroin, so I won't touch the stuff. But obviously I wasn't a _total _drug prude. I mean, I smoked pot a few times in junior high. And I'm not above a good drink.

Still, I'd never been around so much, so openly, so... well, hardcore.

The freshman girl didn't look high, but everybody else was up there with the clouds. I sat down, hoping they wouldn't try to get me to do anything.

The freshman smiled. "I'm Maureen. You can call me Mo if it tickles your pickle."

I changed my opinion slightly—what kind of sober person says "tickles your pickle"? With a faintly guarded expression, I looked at her. She looked at me. "Mona," I said.

I didn't know what was about to happen, but I knew I was ready.

**Part Two—High as a Kite (Maureen PoV)**

I didn't want to scare her away, so I didn't offer any drugs. I wanted a line, or to shoot up some smack, or eat some shrooms—hell, even just down some Stoli. I wanted it desperately. I figured she had to be down with drugs to have come over in the first place, but maybe she was just stupid. Not that I minded—hey, easier fuck.

NO.

I. AM. STRAIGHT. I meant... uh, fuck, I don't know what I meant.

Still, I didn't wanna get high as a kite the first time I ever talked to her.

Not that I cared what she thought.

She came over. I popped an E. I saw something that told me it was cool.

I saw that she was ready.

_A/N: Really, really short, I know, and I apologize. I'm going to update with a longer chappie either tonight or tomorrow._


	4. Chapter 4

**Part One—Outta Your Head (Maureen's PoV)**

If you've never been on E, you wouldn't really understand what happened next. I don't feel like explaining, but it ended with Mona skipping class for the first time—we ditched the entire afternoon.

We left school during lunch. I could see it on her face that, like most first-timers, she was amazed with how easy it was to leave. I had to laugh, I'll admit. All you have to do is open the door and walk out. I think she expected some sort of crazy armed Nazi brigade killing people who dared to skip.

Duh—if that were the case there'd barely be anybody alive still.

But we just walked out as if we knew what we were doing and every right to do it, then walked down to the park. By the time we got there I was out of my head laughing.

We just sat around talking about everything and anything—family, boyfriends, gossip, rumors, our parents, drugs, alcohol, sex, books, music, hobbies (me: drugs, alcohol, music, and sex. her: gymnastics, dance, acting, and sex.), friends, futures, dreams, and more.

And then I was comfortable with her. I felt the stuff in my pocket... and drew it out. After snorting some myself, I smiled at her. "Want a line?"

**Part Two—The Mistakes I Try Not To Make (Mona PoV)**

I had never skipped school before. Maureen seemed slightly out of it, and a little high. I noticed her pop a pill before I actually got there, but I tried to ignore it. She kept laughing and some of what she said didn't make sense. I wasn't sure exactly how it happened, but eventually she said in a bubbly, happy, bright voice:

"Hey, fuck school, let's go somewhere."

I was kind of blown away by the whole thing. Maureen is a very strong presence to be around. I almost felt, sometimes, like I was drowning in her intensity. She just kept going, and going, and she never let up.

Honestly, I had never skipped school before. I was surprised at how easy it was, though. Nobody was watching the doors or patrolling the grounds or anything, so all we had to do was extract ourselves from the lunch throng and ditch. I wondered briefly why this was my first time, but that lead to thinking about grades and getting into college, so I nixed the line of thought.

We walked down to the park—it's just a few blocks away from the school. At first I was nervous. I mean, we were so close to the school! Anybody coulda walked by and turned us in!

Of course, the only other people we saw all afternoon were a few other ditchers and a homeless guy wearing what looked like a leather bag and peeing in a trash can.

Maureen and I talked. There was an easy atmosphere between us, and I felt fine opening up with _everything_. I told her all about my dad, my past, my future... I literally told her my entire life story. She listened, laughed, and returned the favor. I was surprised at her home life—I figured some junkie like her would have a shitty home life. In reality, her parents were extremely cool... at least, they sounded it. She didn't see it that way, of course.

Hell, we even exchanged cell numbers and AIM names.

Then she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled a handful of stuff, followed by a small, unmistakeable plastic bag of white powder.

Cocaine.

She dumped a little out on her mirror and snorted it. I found that strangely mesmerizing. She held out her mirror, with more dumped out on it, and a small paper tube. "Want a line?"

And I took one.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Don't own Maureen or RENT.**

Chapter Whatever

**Part One—Cocaine Smile (Maureen's PoV)**

Mona took a line, to my slight surprise. I hadn't figured she would, but as the white powder filtered into her blood and brain, I have to admit I was glad she did.

The rest of the day was a blur—things usually are when you're on drugs, especially when you mix.

I remember one thing, though—after a while, school let out. I think we'd both had a few more lines by then, but the kids were passing by and we were higher than the clouds. We were sitting under a tree and laughing at the kids that passed by, laughing because we knew the true beauty of life and they didn't. (I think I tried to sell to a group of middle schoolers, but they didn't go for it.) Anyway, we were laughing and suddenly it happened—I have no idea who started it. We sat together under the huge oak in the park and suddenly we were kissing. I don't know how, I don't know why (but I suspect it was the drugs), and I don't know... really anything except that it happened. And Mona's a good kisser.

Eventually, though, we had to sober up and get Mona home. She was ambitions and college bound and had no time for drugs.

I sobered up, too—lately Mom and Dad had been on high alert, watching for me to come home without a clear head, waiting for a weakness and a chance to turn me in. After I walked Mona to her corner, I said my goodbyes and came home. If I were Spanish, there couldn't've been a fiercer Inquisition waiting for me.

I hopeend the door to Mum squealing, "Pumpkintoes, how was school?" and trying to 'subtley' check for dilated eyes, pot stink, nosebleeds, or any other sign of drug usuge. It was a wonder she didn't pat me down or make me roll up my sleeves to search for possesion or heroin use—she had in the past.

I sighed, "It was good, Mama. I made a friend."

Mum's eyes shot open. Not like she thought I had no friends—she was just waiting for me to befriend someone who WASN'T a junkie. "Is she... like your other friends?"

"Not so far as I know," I said, ignoring her failed subtlety. I neglected to mention that I'd probably addicted her to coke as soon as we became friends.

Mom looked relieved. "It's so nice to have you invovled in... wholesome company."

"Right, Mama."

**Part Two—Magic Smith (Mona's PoV)**

I did something I'd never done before, and never expected to do, especially that day. To this day, I'm still not entirely sure whether I regret it. I guess I should, but really I can't—had I not taken that line, nothing after that would've happened. Which would've been terrible, but in some ways, better.

Before that, I'd never been high, and I can't really describe the sensation. Honestly, I barely remember anything after I snorted. It kind of burned my nose, and later that night I had a big-ass nosebleed.

Later in the afternoon, I remember Maureen trying to get me to kiss this Chihuahua on the mouth. I think she did it, but I don't remember if I did. I also remember her pushing drugs at this group of kids—they were probably twelve, with their skirts at belt-like length, and tiny tees hugging their nonboobs. They wore 3-inch heels, chunky to the point of fuck-all. There were four girls, nearly identical in clothing, with their hair crappily dyed an odd red color and their faces made up to within an inch of their life. I'd be willing to bet they were already on drugs, but they durned down Maureen's offers. The short girl with the pudgy tummy straining her tiny tee started searching her pockets when Maureen offered, but quit once the tallest one with the best-dyed hair turned it down.

When I went home I took a nap, and when I woke up I remembered kissing Maureen. I don't know if that was real or dreamed, though.

Anyway, eventually I had to go home. Maureen and I sobered up and she walked me to my corner. My mother and I lived in a pretty run-down apartment building, and I didn't want her to see it.

Not that I cared, really. I wasn't _interested _in her. It was just the drugs.

So I went home to Mom and took my leave ASAP to my bedroom. I just fed Mom and excuse about staying after school to run lines with one of my theatre friends. Luckily, she believed me.

I went to my room and after half an hour I noticed something.

A craving.

I had officially been turned on to cocaine.

**A/N: Didn't like this installment much. Title of the 2****nd**** half is random. My friend wrote it in during my CI class.**


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